


Softspoken

by transformer



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: M/M, monster au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-22
Updated: 2016-06-22
Packaged: 2018-07-16 15:54:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7274332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/transformer/pseuds/transformer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>prompt: "cause I see you lying next to me with words I thought I’d never speak"<br/>from <i>famous last words</i> by my chemical romance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Softspoken

**Author's Note:**

> week one of weekly drabbles exchange.

Rain rolls down their faces. Their chests are heaving. They’re on the ground, their backs painted with mud and grass. The woods surrounding them are quiet. Chanyeol has an arm curled around Kyungsoo’s. His head is close to the other’s shoulder. They’re trying to catch their breaths. The mansion was miles ago.

Chanyeol’d sustained a wound during the run. Kyungsoo’s stopped the bleeding with a piece of his shirt when they took a break, hiding in the shadows of an old oak tree about forty-five minutes before.

 

 

Looking at Kyungsoo lying next to him, Chanyeol wonders if this is the right time. It’s never quite the right time, but maybe after this he won’t have a chance. They know that if they want to escape successfully they’ll have to part ways in the woods.

Chanyeol has to tell him. His hand finds a way to intertwine their fingers, but that’s as much courage as he can muster.

“How’s your wound?” Kyungsoo asks.

“Barely feel it anymore,” Chanyeol replies. It’s truthful, considering it’s not been on his mind for the past few minutes. Running away from mad scientists in the middle of a murky forest does that. He eyes it his left arm. The bloodstained shirt has gone maroon though drenched in dark rain.

“No need to act tough. We don’t have an audience,” Kyungsoo murmurs. By audience, Chanyeol supposes Kyungsoo means people with scalpels.

Chanyeol leans closer to the other, breathes in the cool air and then sneezes.

“We’re out though. That life is far behind us now,” Chanyeol says. He smiles earnestly.

“Just a few miles behind us. We still need to put more distance. This is my territory, but they could set the forest on fire any moment now.”

“And then it’ll be my territory,” Chanyeol reassures, a flare passing his eyes. “But hey, you know, while we’re taking this break, we should celebrate.”

“With what? Acid rainwater?” Kyungsoo snorts. “Chink, chink, cheers. To us.” He adds a toasting gesture for good measure, and Chanyeol titters.

“Last words. Let’s just tell each other last words before we move on to the next stage of our lives,” the wounded man suggests, closing his eyes.

 

 

“You go first,” Kyungsoo says after breathing deeply.

The nocturnal showers drown Chanyeol’s famous last words as Test Subject Sixty-One.

 

But Chanyeol gets to hear Test Subject Twelve murmur his last words. Ones that are just as much last as they are a first.

 

“I love you too.”


End file.
